smashing cars
hustling pool
petty crimes
chasing tail
through the
horsepower traffic
of hormones
and hoodlums
I swear I don’t
understand how
those guys
made it to
twenty alive
but they did
at least most
of them did
served their country
had families
ran businesses
my generation
of grandfathers
needless to say
as for me
in my salad days
I was an angel
till now in my
graybeard years
wrinkled and
rankled and wild
making up
for lost time
raising hell
A fun, nostalgic read, Paul. TY
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glad you enjoyed it
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Yeah right!
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a fantasy anthem
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Haven’t heard ‘salad days’ since the old King died. This really has everything – brilliant!
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we are of an era
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Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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thank you for sharing my poem with your readers
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Oooh, that’s good–no one can touch your gift of language, Paul.
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I feel blessed
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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You go ahead there Mr. Paul!!
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ha ha – and so I shall
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